The Newberry herald. (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, December 22, 1875, Image 1
ADVERTISINC RATES.
THE HERALDI .Avrieet netdatet~.X
pe squ onenef i n
IS PGBLISHED or e sequen e
EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNINGNotices ofmeetings,obitariesandtrites
EVER WENESDY MRMNG I olm restsmetenpercse a oar
At Newberry, S. C.
Special notices inloa.lmn1cet
BYAdvertisements not marked wth the num
Editor and Proprietor. ad d .a r y.
Specialecontracts made with -large adver
Terms, $2.50 per .lnnul tysers,withuberaldeductionson above rates
Invariably in Advance. A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c
25,- The per is stopped at the expiration o015 a w
time for =49chit is paid.WE N S A MO NN ,D C M E 2,185No 51TemCah
- The >< mark denotes expiration of sub- Vol. XI. WEDNESDAY MORNING, DE
Fcription.
LITTLE FiNGERS.
Busy little fingers,
Everywhere they go;
Rosy little fingers,
The sweetest that I know.
Now into my work-box,
All the buttons finding,
Tangling up the knitting,
Every spool unwinding!
Now into the basket,
Where the keys are hidden,
So mischievous looking,
Knowing it forbidden.
Then in mother's tresses,
Now her neck enfolding,
With such iweet caresses,
Keeping off a scolding.
Darling little fingers,
Never, never still,
Make them, Heavenly Father,
One day do Thy will.
TEE TWO KEIGHBORS.
One evening as the twilight was
dusking into deeper shades,farmer
Welton stood in his door-yard,
with sA ~gun in his hands, and
saw a d' coming out from his
shed. It was not his dog, for his
vas of a light color,while this was
- surely blaek.
The shed alluded to was open
in front, with double doors for the
passage of carts, and a wicket for
pedestrians at the back; and this
shed was part of a continuous
sauetare c6nnecting-the barn with
the house. Around back of this
ho'use was the sheep-fold.
There had been trouble upon
f.rmer'Welton's place. Dogs had
been killing his sheep and some
of th' very best at that,. He &.-d do
elarid-in his wrath, that he would
shoot the first stray dog he found
-'0rowling around his premises.
On this evening, by chance, he had
been carrying his gun from the
house-to the har, when the ca
nine intruder appeared. Aye,
and in the barn he had been
taking the skin from a valuable
sheep 'which had been killed and
mangled with tigerish ferocity.
So, when he saw the strange
dog coming through his shed, he
brought the gun to his shoulder,
--and, with quick sure aim, fired.
The dog gave a -leap and a howl
aDd having whisked around in a
circle, two or three times, he
bounded off in a tangent, yelping
painfally, and was soon lost to
sight.
"Hallo! what's to pay now,
Welton ?"
S"Ah-is that you, Frost ?"
"Yes. Been shootin' somethin',
aint ye ?"
"I've shot a dog, I think."
"Ye-:s. I seed him scootin' off.
It was Brackett's, I reckon."
Before the farmer could make
* any further remark, his wife calL
ed to him from the porch and he
went in.
Very shortly afterward a boy
-and a girl came out through the
shed, as the dog had came. Down
back of Welton's farm, distant half
a mile, or so, was a saw and grist
*mill, with quite a little settlement
aroud it; and people having oc
casion to go on foot from that sec
tion to the farms on the hill
could cut off a long distance by
crossing Welton's lot. The boy
and girl were children of Mr.
Br'ackett. When they reached
home they were met by a scene of
dire -confusion. Old Carlo, the
grand old 2Newfoundland dog-the
Sloving and loved-the true and the
faithful-had come home s h o t.
through the head, and was dying.
The children threw themselves up
on their shaggy mate, and wept
and moaned in agony.
Mvr. Brackett arrived just as the
dog breathed his last, One of the
older boys stood by with a light
ed lantern-for it had grown quite
dark now-and the farmer saw
what had happened.
"Who did this ?" he asked,
groaningly..
"John Wejton did it," said Tom
Frost, cong up at that moment.
"lie's been losin' sheep, an' I
'guess he's got kind 'o wrathy."
B3ut my dog never killed a sheep
-never! lie's been reared to
-care for sheep. How came he
down there ?"
"He went over to the mill with o
Sis and me," said the younger boy, r
sobbing as he spoke; "and he was
running on ahead of us toward r
home. I heard a gun just before S
we got to Mr. Welton's, but oh! 1
didn't think he could have shot 0
poor Carlo!"
Mr. Brackett was fairly beside
himself. To say he was angry 6
would not express it. He loved I t
that dog-it had been the chief' I
pet of his household for years. I
Re was not a man in the habit of x
using profane language, but on e
the present occasion a fierce oath es- t
caped him; and in that frame of i
mind-literally boiling with hot t
wrath and indignation-he s.arted S
for Welton. e
John Welton and Peter Brackett
had been neighbors from their r
earliest days, and they had been i
friends too. Between the two fam
ilies there had been a bond of lovo t
and good wil[,and a spirit of frater- t
nal kindness and regard bad mark- I
ed their inter,course. Both the far- r
mers were hard-working men, j
with strong feelings and positive t
characteristics. They belonged to I
the same religious society, and
sympathized in politics. They f
had had warm discussions, but s
never yet a direct falling out.
Of the two, Welton was the more r
intellectual, and, perhaps, a little
more tinged with pride than was
his neighbor. But they were both i
tLearty men, enjoying life for the s
good it gave them.
Mr. Welton entered his kitchen, r
and stood the empty gun up be
hind the door.
"Whvt's the matter, John?"
his wife asked, as she saw his c
troubled face. V
"I'm afraid I've done a bad C
thifi?"re replied regretffilly. "I r
fear I have shot Brackett's dog."
"Oh, John !" t
"But I didn't know whose dog
it was. I saw him coming out e
from the shed-it was too dark to c
see mo,re than that it was a dog. ii
I only thought of the sheep I had o
lost, and I fired." n
"I am sorry, John. 0, how L
Mrs. Brackett and the children will a
feel. They set every thing by
old Carlo. But you can explain t
it." t
"Yes-I can explain." l
Half an hour later Mr. Welton b
was going to his barn with a light- C
ed lantern in his hand. lie was a
thinking of the recent unfortu- b
nate occurrence, and was sorely C
worried and perplexed. What a
would his neighbor say ? He e
hoped there might be no trouble. t
He was reflecting thus when Mr.
Brackett~ appeared before him, n
coming up quickly, and stopping t
with an angry stamp of the I
foot.t
Now there may be a volume of e
electric influence even in the stamp v~
of a foot, and there was such an t
infldence in the stamp which I
Brackett gave; arid Welton felt 0
it, and braced himself against it. I
There was moreover, an atmos- r
phere exhaling from the presence t
of the irate man at once repellant 6
and aggravating. I
"John Welton ! you have sh ot t
my dog!'" Thbe words were hissed e
forth hotly.a
"Yes," said Welton, icily.
"How dared you do it ?"
"1 dare shoot any dog that
comes prowling around my build- c
ings, especially when I have had I
my sheep killed by them." - i
"But my dog never troubled a
your sheep, and you know it." f
"How should I know it ?" - a
"You know that he never did J
harm to a sheep. It wasn't in a
his nature. It was a mean, coward- [
ly het, and (an oath) you shall t
suffer for it !"e
"Brackett, you, don't know to e
whom you are talking."a
"0 ho !" (another oath) "We'll
find out! We'll see! Don't put t
Ion airs, John Welton. You ain't t
a saint. I'll have satisfaction, ifa
I have to take it out of your
!hid!"~
"Peter, you'd better go home I
and cool off. You are making K
yourself ridiculous." I:
Now, really, this was the un -
kindest cut of all. Not all the
mad words of Brackett put to- J
gether were so hard as this single t
entncea and John Welton nutle
11 the bitter sarcasm of tho com
iand into it.
Brackett burst forth into a tor
ent of invectives, and then turned
way.
Half an hour later John Welton
cknowledged to himself that he
ad not done exactly right.
Had he, in the outset-in an
wer to Brackett's first outburst
old the simple truth-that he
ad shot the dog by mistake ; that
e was sorry; and that he was
'illiog to do anything in his pow
r to make amends-bad he done
his his neighbor would probably
ave softened at once. But it was
oo late now. The blow had been
truck; he had been grossly insult
d; and he would not back down.
Mr. Brackett was not so much
efiective. He onlyfelt his wrath,
7hich be nursed to keep it warm.
'hat evening he hitched his horse
: a job-wagon and went down to
he village after a barrel of flour.
[aving transacted his store busi
ess, he called upon Laban Pep
er, a lawyer, to whom he narra
ad the facts of the shooting of
is dog.
Pepper was a man anxious for
,es. He had no sympathy or
oul above that.
"You say your dog was in -com
any with two of your children ?'
"Yes."
"And this passage over Mr.
Velton's land, and through his
bed, has been freely yielded by
im as a right of way to his
eig h bors ?"
"Yes, sir, ever since I can re
iember."
"Then, my dear sir, Welton is
[early liable. If you vi ill com e
ith me, we will step into Mr.
arfield's and have a suit com
ienced at once."
Mr. Garfield was the trial jus.
ce.
All this happened on -Friday
vening. On Saturday it had be.
me noised abroad in the farm.
ir district that there was not
n I y serious trouble between
eighbors Welton and Brackett
ut that they were going to law
bout it.
On Sunday morning John Wel
>n told his wife he would not at
and church. She could go if she
ked. She had no nxeed to ask
er husband why he would not go
t. She knew he was unhappy,
nd that he could not bear to meet
is old neighbor in the house of
'od while the dark cloud was up
n him. iNor did she wish to meet
ither Mr. or Mrs. Brackett. So
bey both stayed at home.
Peter Brackett was even more
iserable t h a n John Welton,
bough perhaps he did not know it.
[e held io close companionship
be very worst demon a man can
mbrace-the demon of wrathful
engeance; and in order to main
sin himself at the strain to which
e had set his feelings, ' e was
bliged to nurse the monster.
e did not attend church that day,
tor did his wife. Two or three
imes during the calm, beautiful
abbath,as he glanced over toward
is neigh bor's d welling, he foun d
imSelf wishing that he had not
one to see John Welton in such
eat of anger ; but he put the
rish away, and nursed back his
trath.
On Monday, toward noon, the
onstable came up from the vil
ge, and read to John Welton an
nposing legal document. It was
summons issued by Win. Gar
eld, Esq., a justice of the peace
nd quorum, ordering the said
ohn Welton to appear before him,
t two o'clock, on Wednesday, at
is-office, then and there to answer
o the complaint of Peter Brack
tt, etc. The officer read the sum
ions and, left with the defendant
,copy.
It was the first time John Wel
ou had ever been called upon
o face the law. At first he was
we-stricken, and -then he was
roth. He told himself that he
vould fight it to the bitter end.
Ld now he tried to nurse his
rath, and became more unhap
y than before.
On Tuesday evening, Parson
rely called upon Mr. Welton.
'he good man had heard of the
rouble, and was exceedingly ex
,ised in asirit. Both the men
were of his flock, he loved and re- I
spected them both. He sat down '
alone with Welton, and asked him i
I what it meant.
"Tell me calmly and candidly f
all about it," he said.
After a little reflection, Mr. Wel- i
ton told the story. He knew. the J
old clergyman for a true man and r
whole-hearted friend, and he told t
everything just as he understood t
it.
"And neighbor Brackett thinks a
even now, that you shot the dog v
knowing it was his ?" V
"I suppose so." I
"If you had told him the exact s
facts in the beginning, do you h
think he would have held his an- I
ger ?" In
This was a hard question for I
John Welton, but he answered it n
manfully. t
"Truly, parson, I do not think I1
he would."
"Were you every more unhappy n
in your life than you have been
since this trouble came ?" o
"I think not." k
"And,if possible,neighbor Brack- lb
ett is more unhappy than you." m
"Do you think so ?" o
"Yes. He is the most angry
and vengeful." f
A brief pause and then the par
son resumed: 81
"Brother Welton, with you are
needed but few words. You are a a
stronger man than brother Brack- y
ett. Do you not believe he has c
a good heart ?" .n
"Yes." t
"I wish you could.show him how t
true and good your heart is."
"Parson !" h
"I wish you could show him ti
that you possess true Christian ii
courage." ii
"Parson what do you mean ?" t'
"I wish you had the courage
to meet him and conquer him." I
"How would you have me do I
it?"
"First conquer yourself. You h
are not offended ?" g
"No. Go on." r
And *thereupon the good old b
clergyman drew up his arm chair e
and laid his hand upon his friend's y
arm, and told him just what he b
would have him:do. He spoke a
earnestly, and with tears in his a
eyes.
"Brother Welton, have you the s
heart and courage to do this ?" s
The farmer arose and took two
or three turns across the floor; g
and finally he said: - a
"I will do it !" ii
* * * * * k
On the following day, towards ~
the middle of t-he forenoon, Peter s
Brackett stood in his door-yard' c
with his head bent. He was think
ing whether he should harness
his horse and be off bsfore dinner, li
or whether he would wait until s
afternoon. He could not work; t
he could not even put his mind
to ordinary chores.
"I wonder," he said to himself, s
"how the trial will come Gut ! I
s'pose Welton 'Il hire old Whit
man to take his case. Of course 5
the office '1l be crowded. Tom i
Frost says it's noised everywhere, 8:
and that everybody 'll be there.
Plague take it ! I wish-"
His meditations were interrupt
ed by approaching steps, and on n
looking up he beheld neighbor o
Welton. b
"Good morning, Peter."
Brackett gasped, and finally an- a
swered ; "Good Morning," though
rather crustily.
Welton went on, frankly and b
pleasantly*:.
"You will go to the village to- t
day ?"
"I s'pose so." b
"I have been summoned by Jus- a
tice Garfield to be there, also; t
but really, Peter I don't want to ii
go. One of us will be enougb. t
Garfield is a fair man and when n
he knows the facts he will do
what is right. Now, you can
state them as well as I can, and ~
whatever his decision is, 1 will U
abide by it. You can tell him that d
I shot your dog, and that your
dog had done me no harm."
"Do you acknowledge that old
Carlo never harmed you-that he L
r
never troubled your sheep ?" in
quired Brackett, with startled sur
prise,
iarm to anything. 1 am sure he
vould have sooner saved one of
ay sheep than have killed it."
"Then what did you shoot him
br ?"
"That is what I was just coM- T
,g at, Peter. You will tell the
ustice that I had lost several of
iy best sheep-killed by dogs
bat I had just been taking
be skin from a fat, valuable
retber that had been so killed
nd mangled-that 1 was on my
ray from my barn to my house,
-ith my gun in my hand, when n
saw a dog come out from my
bed. My first Lbought was that 3
e had come from my sheep-fold. P
t was almost dark and I could 0
ot see plainly. Tell the Justice 8<
had no idea it was your dog. I cl
ever dreamed that I had fired tl
2at cruel shot at old Carlo until
'om Frost told me ?" d
"How? You didn't know it was
iy dog ?" a
"Peter,have you thought so hard '
E me as to think that I could
nowingly and willingly have s
armed that grand old dog? I c
ould sooner have shot one of my b
wvn oxen." e:
"But you didn't tell me so at p
rat. Why didn't you?" il
"Because you come upon me so- r
)-suddenly-" b
"0, pshaw!" cried Brackett,with -
stamp of his foot. "Why don't
ou spit it out as it was? Say I
ime down on you so like a bor- 9
et that you hadn't a chance to i
iink. I was a blamed fool!
iat's what I was."
"And I was another, Peter; if I
adn't been I should have told you (
1e truth at once, instead of flar- i
ig up. But we will understand e
now. You can see the Jus
ce-"
"Justice be hanged!-John
ang it all! what's the use?
'he-e !-Let's end it so!" -
From the window Mrs. Brackett
ad seen the two men come to- 0
ether and she trembled for the I
sult. By and by she saw her a
usband, as though flushed and o
_cited, put out his-hand. Mercy! I
!as he going to strike his neigh- p
or? Sbe was ready to cry out f<
ith affright-the cry was almost
pon her lips-when she beheld a v
ene that called forth rejoicing in- o
sead. And this was what she o
She saw these two strong men A
rasp one another by the hand,' p
nd she saw big, bright tears roll- e:
ig down their cheeks; and she i
new that the fearful storm was o
assed, and that the warm sun- k
bine of love and tranquility would 2
me again.
STREET SLANG.-"Learn to tlk
ke a gentleman, my boy. I am c
rry. to hear you talk 'streeta
lk.' .Do quit it." g
"What is 'street talk,' papa ?"
"What did you just now say to
ster ?"
"I told her to be quiet."a
"But you said 'hush up,' and
rid it very loud and rudely. ~
that did you ten minutes ago ,
ty to Martha !"
"I told her to go out of my c
"But you did not say it half s
icely as that. You said 'Get out
f this.' And I think you called
er some name."
Harry looked ashamed, but he
nwered:
"I called her a dirty snick."
"Just so. That is what 1 meana
y street talk; all such coarse vul- a
ar words and especially the rough a,
>n and manner, you hear on
be street. They belong to those ci
oys who have never been taught g
ny better, and to those men who
dough knowing better, yet do
ot care anything about the bet- .
3r way, But my boy should
ever use street talk."
A Cincinnati tramp advertises V
r a "partner, to learn the busi- s
ess, and do the Western country
u
uring the Fall season."
The amount of sand paper an- r
nally produced in the United ~
tates is estimated at 200,000 g
eams.
True affection grows stronger p
s it grows older. The same may c
o said of an egg.t
iceUaneons.
SUPERPHOSPHATES.
HEIR PRACTICAL USES-REDUCED PHOS
PHATEs, COMBINED WITH HOME MA
TERIALS AND POTASH-PRESENCE OF
ABUNDANT VEGETABLE MATTER IN
TE SOIL NECESSARY TO ENSURE GOOD
RESULTS.
The words Superphosphate, Acid
'hosphate, and Dissolved Bone, all
Lean one and the same thing, viz:
one Phosphate of Lime, treated
ith and rendered soluble by sul
huric acid, by which a certain part
f the bone phosphate becomes
>luble in water, and, as a matter of
>urse, more easily assimilated to
ie wants of the plants.
The quality of a dissolved bone
epends, on the fineness with which
ie boneis ground, and the strength
ad quantity of sulphuric acid with
hich it is treated.
The greater the percentage of
>lubility the greater the value of the
>mpound. To enable the farmer
) comprehend the values of the sev
ral Superphosphates, Acid Phos
hates, or Dissolved Bones, offered
the market, we give a very accu.
itely calculated table of values,
ken from a circular in our han Is:
Total value of cgige
Super-Phosphate. a
Value of Z.1$$
Sulphate of Lime. *
I Also has pounds of
Sulphateof Lime -
at % ets. per lb. -88
G ives value of 88
p Soluble Bone Phos- c;
phate of Lime. c
And yields pounds,
r ton of soluble.:-3=3
-one Phosphate,I
at 7j ets. per lb. ;Slos
p Has also about ,.
Ser cent. of I - -
E-4Isulpate of Lime.'
94 ~ Per cent. of O____
Soluble Bone -
0 Phosphate of Lime.
1Q1 . qc
Thus a Superphosphate which
)ntains twelve per cent. of Soluble
one Phosphate of lime, contains
[so thirty per cent. of Sulphate
f lime, and is worth $18 for the
'hosphate, and $4.50 for the Sul
hate; and its total value is there
>re $22.50.
We see from the table that the
ilues of Dissolved Bone consists
! the Soluble Bone Phosphate
f Lime, and of the Sulphate of
dine or Land Plaster it contains.
s we will below use the term Phos
oric Acid, we may be allowed to
iplain that it is a chemical equiva
nt to Dissolved Bone. About
ne pound of the former is equiva
nt to two pounds of the latter, or
4: per cent. Dissolved Bone will
eld 1I per cent. Phosphoric Acid.
Less than half a century ago,
ie attention of the Agricultural
emist was turned to the use of
aimal bones, of recent origin, as a
~rtilizer. These bones contained
per cent. ammonia, and were first
sed as a raw bone without being
~eated with acid, and in this form
t an invaluable fertilizer. But
~ere we to rely solely on this source
f supply, the value of the same
ould soon outgrow the bounds of
rofit to the farmer. Soon the an
ent deposits of bone, sometimes
lled rock, or cro-opalite, was dis
:vered and tested. At first, sup
osed to be inferior to the bone of
scent origin,itworked its way slow
r. But experience has shown that
;is not only equal, but superior to
1e other. The inexhaustible beds
f the Charleston Basin will afford
a abundant and cheap supply for
century to come. This supply
so near at hand, and its merits so
'eli established, that we may rest
>ntented to use it, and not even
> wish for more.
The highest grades of Dissolved
~one are manufactured from Char
~ston Bone, and its merits z're too
'ell known to require discussion.
The Charleston Ground Bone
ithout being treated with acid
as been used on crops with marked
access. But it is not advisable to
se it as it requires too great an out
iy of capital as it would necessa
ly have to be applied a year or two
efore obtaining results. F o r
rape culture it is invaluable and
ie application of a ton to a kitch
a garden of ordinary size, will
ay in the run of five or six years to
>me. Its cost is about one-half
kat of Dissolved Bone. Practical
tests have been made with it by
Captain James F. Johnston, in
Mecklenburg County, N. C., on ex
hausted clay lands,which were made
to grow clover luxuriantly two years
after the application was made.
Much has been said and writ
ten about the manufacture and use
of Reduced Phosphates. The wri
ter of this article who is neither a
scientific man nor a chemist, does
not pretend to understand the sub
ject, but thinks that both scientific
men and agricultural chemists have
something to learn on this subject
It is known that a highly soluble
dissolved bone acts promptly and
beneficially on crops. . Also that
the immediate effects of ground
mineral bone, which is insoluble,
on crops amount to nothing.' It is
also known that if we apply Dis
solved Bone to the soil to-day, that
by to-morrow, or as soon as it has
become dampened by the moisture
of the soil, it goes into a secondary
insoluble or more properly reduced
state, and may be technically said
to have "gone back" in which form
it is plant food and is readily taken
up and assimilated by plants : and
if it was not for this wise provision
by nature, it would, if it remained
in its soluble state, be leached and
taken from the soil, and out of the
reach of plants by the first heavy
rains that fall.
Indeed it would appear that na
ture has wonderfully provided that
all plant food in the soil is insolu
ble in water; and that when once
properly mixed with the soil, it is
as it were stored and locked up
there, to be extracted therefrom by
plants and plants only
It is an open subject whether or
not, we may not reduce Dissolved
Bone before its application to the
soil. This may.be done by the ad
dition to it of a small quantity of
carbonate of lime-(builder's. lime)
-say 8 to 10 per cent., and the
writer of this article has so reduced
a 29 per cent. dissolved bone with
marked success, running contrary
to the chemist's advice. The intel
ligent planter had better use his
own judgment, and experiment in
this line cautiously.
It is.well known to even the ne
gro laborer that tills the ground,
that Dissolved Bone pays better on
lands that have been rested, or out
of cultivation for some years, than
on lands that have been for years
ini clean crops (cotton or tobacco).
Hence, the old sedge fields, when
treated with it invariably yield an
extra crop the first year, and this
generally with a limited amount of
tillage. It is because these lands
are surcharged with~ vegetable mat
ter. Hence any one can see that
vegetable matter is necessary as an
aid in using Dissolved Bone; and
he who uses it on lands on which
the vegetable matter has been ex
hausted, should blame himself for
his failure and not the manufactii
rer.
Vegetable matter is cheap, and
may be either obtained from green
crops, from bogs, or the scrapings
of the woods. Remember always
to have it present in lands before
you make an outlay of money for
Dissolved Bone to apply to the
same.
It has been demonstrated practi
ally, that Potash added to Dis
solved Bone gives more powerful
results, and especially on cotton,
than Dissolved Bone. The Etiwan
Crop Food is an illustration of this
combination. The most available
form of Potash to be used being a
high grade muriate. And here it
may be well to caution the farmer
against some of the cheaper kinds
of potash, and especially kanitt,
which I regard as worthless. Use
your home-source of supplying pot
ash-the ash pile, and a small sup
ply from hulls of cotton seed.
Experience has shown that the
finest results are obtained by a
combination of cotton seed and
strong stable manure with Dis
solved Bone and Potash. Even
1,000 to 2,000 pounds stable ma
nure per acre, so comnbined, will
produce wonderful,. results. In
using Dissolved Bone, combined as
above, the quantity of Dissolved
Bone, per acre remaining fixed, the
amount of potash, stable manure
and cotton seed may be varied, the
last two named supply principally
ammonia. To illustrate, we give a
tabular form below, a prescription
for dikerent grades of land from
very poor to fertile, or lands well
in heart. No. 1 is very poor land
capable, in a natural state, of pro
ducing cotton stalks not over six
inches high. No. 2, twice, No. 3,
three times, No. 4, four times, No.
5, five times the strength of No. 1,
and No. 6, new or fresh lands or
enriched, old lands.
The 1st line in the table shows
the maximum amount of Dissolved
Bone in lbs. of 24 per cent. solubil
ity recommended for an acre, and
the 2d the amount of cotton seed
to be used in pounds, the third the
amount of phosphoric acid supplied
by 150 pounds Dissolved Bone in
pounds, the 4th the amount of sul
phate of lime or land plaster sup
plied by 150 lbs. Dissolved Bone
of 24 per cent. solubility; the 5th
the amount of ammonia in lbs., sup
plied by the cottoA seed above; the
6th the amount of potash in lbs.,
supplied by the cotton seed above.
The figures in the 5th and 6th lines
are only approximatively correct.
& =I 0 0 =C,-0'
T- o o
h O 0 OO
Cq 0 0
v- 00
E-1 0 0S =0
V o -,oo
$24 00ro
I' z '0 Oro Vq
0 0~ 00140
For a part of the cotton seed
above, rich-stable manure may be
substituted, and p'Otash may be add
ed from one to'six inclusive on
sandy soils, and to advAntage oni
The boveis rcom ee as
For satife parth f bahe cotton e
aberch blanrmyb
sbTitrteen hundre posdma bfed
edfomtoneilo yix nc 4ls on
psphoisi, and adanotg the
saew aodnthree ponalay Hence
Aforthduing pthaos theuntiper
Crpnd (Poeweths and Dissolved
Bone o 9pcn. may be usdwihgead
vaTge abomied s recmede othe
thens maimuamb adviantageousnlyh
upsitiaon tBut eitr lner coi
beostigfordsing alonle ofwaystoe
p care.opleie ieybfr
cuttn anwill ore nearef4ulbs tofn
poporie, and abfuy wth
sae mount ode ptasoh. s Henc
for sproing on that amurroper
Bonewayb unasecd ihreat to
miat e oied wite ohery
thngs ifouappl too advantaitous
soed adloeckteinthe sil, con-d
s ing still mo ftre efulps. n
cprate andshoxldabefuly, wit
they sol.ain orde toe emts, if
ysrinrela godcowna inxep frow
verys thin landsecn fammoia te
iweed, t, oilse-iberanci
pnd if you appyqooired.i j
Istodn locaed gin notiand
petter calnesl be used, asled
abley contaimntsd all oe thenst
scunry. In fine, after-a expe-on
ther tuse lads commona,fetilies
Iwhave to, o nekn rincuin
tha soingysperlceg.aofnallthn
beenemntheamed,b ipendshuer
be eperiments maephloverphae.
cont-r In fin,-youe an exp
rienelo asm ptawhnas year re
thie. us our mmea soriiers,
spIngpcoehohicdaonuin
tha ntinety pencent yof aelcoh
mee the farmer senmarke shoud
An-bariiimndyo c ansu.
Sofy amhamonia, hadenebu
sopelldg nv e aet n